Speak The Unspeakable
by Plaidly Lush
Summary: sequel to Trust The Impossible. Hermione is confronted with a part of her past that she was not aware existed. She learns some things about herself and about a certain man named Draco Malfoy


Speak The Unspeakable  
  
~ The sun cast a serene array of colors across the sky; Hermione sat with Ron and Harry at a table in one of the few cafés that were open at that hour of the morning. She had been doing a lot of thinking for the past two weeks, and had come up with some very odd ideas when work at last left her alone with her thoughts.   
  
For the past half hour, she had slipped Malfoy into their conversation numerous times. Both Harry and Ron had brushed it off quickly, steering the topic away from the man who had probably saved her life two weeks ago. This not only thoroughly annoyed Hermione, but made her want to abandon her subtle plan, and ask them what was going on. She did not quite do that.   
  
"I hope this jury isn't paid off, like the last one," Ron was growling. "That was blatant corruption, it was. I was just waiting for someone to stand up and yell, 'This jury is corrupt! Mistrial!'"   
  
"I doubt that will happen again," Harry assured him, giving Hermione the look he always gave when he was disagreeing with Ron for the sake of his temper.   
  
"It's a funny thing," Hermione blurted out.   
  
"What is?" Harry wondered.   
  
Horrified at what she was saying, she told them what was funny. "Neither of you have mentioned Malfoy since that night. I would have thought you would be interrogating me about what he said, what he did, until I was pulling my hair out in irritation. Instead, you're the ones skirting the subject. Now, why could that be?"   
  
Ron cleared his throat. "I don't like talking about Malfoy."   
  
"Hermione," Harry interrupted, "we should be going. Don't you think, Ron?"   
  
Ron nodded, and he and Harry stood up, preparing to leave.   
  
"Boys, it's only five fifteen in the morning. We don't have to be at work until seven."   
  
"Oh, yeah, well I have all this extra paperwork. I thought I would get a head start on it."   
  
"Ron, since when do you do your own paperwork?" Hermione asked innocently.   
  
"Since today, when we have to get to work. Come on. I'm going, at least. Harry?"   
  
"Yes. Hermione?"   
  
"No, I think I'll sit for a while longer. Then I'll take a nice long walk, probably down a dark alley, and try to get mugged. What do you think?" Hermione smiled slightly, having amused herself. She only said that because Harry and Ron were giving each other urgent looks, and apparently had stopped paying attention to her altogether.   
  
Harry turned back to her, a serious look in his eyes, and spoke. "We have to go, Hermione. We'll see you at the Ministry. Oh, by the way, your alarm button is working again. It should be on your desk today."   
  
"Thanks," Hermione replied, bewildered. "I'll see you." They left with the speed of two grown men avoiding an uncomfortable conversation. "I wonder what that was about," she muttered.   
  
"Isn't it obvious?" a voice startled her from behind.   
  
Hermione turned. "Who are you, what business is it of yours, and no." She repositioned herself, facing the table.   
  
"Oh, dear. And you were always so smart." Her eyes narrowed at that. She had no idea who the voice belonged to, whether it was male or female, and the figure and face she had seen were shadowed.   
  
"Not this again. You know me?"   
  
"Possibly."   
  
"What does that mean?"   
  
"Just what it sounded like."   
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. This was not her idea of sitting comfortably in a café. This was her idea of being incredibly harassed by a complete stranger. And it was not as fun as some people might think. "What do you want?" she asked. She knew the person was still there, watching her.   
  
"Oh, aren't we testy today?"   
  
"No, we aren't. We are perfectly fine, thank you, and we would very much like to be left alone." Hermione did not usually talk in the plural, but she had been provoked, after all.   
  
"Suit yourself. But I'll leave you with this thought; your friends are hiding something from you. That is why they do not want to talk about the Malfoy kid. Ask him what it's about the next time you see him, it's likely you'll get an answer."   
  
"The next time I- what?" Hermione turned, but the person she was talking to had already left their table. She swiveled around to look at the door, and saw nothing more than a satisfied grin on a shaded face. Sighing, she sat back as her second coffee was brought for her. She sipped it thoughtfully for a while.   
  
Why *were* Harry and Ron avoiding the subject? She knew them too well to dismiss it as discomfort or overworked-ness. They had always disliked Malfoy with a fiery passion that she fancied could burn on water. They were passing up a perfect opportunity to mock, deride, and generally insult him, and make speculating insinuations having to do with Dark Arts. It just wasn't like them.   
  
The next sip she took brought nothing from the mug, and she peered into it to find it empty. She set it down, took a few sickles from her pocket, and rose, drawing her cloak around her shoulders.   
  
The air outside was crisp, not quite cold, but certainly not warm. Hermione adjusted her black leather gloves and threw the end of her multicolored scarf over her shoulder. Her winter gear would magically keep her warm, so she decided that her previous idea of a walk sounded nice. She should walk to work. She always used to Apparate everywhere, due to the necessity of getting there quickly, but there was no need to rush that morning.   
  
The walk refreshed her, and between the coffee and the cool air, she was quite alert when she arrived at the Ministry, but her mind kept wandering. She was annoyed by Draco, by Harry and Ron, and by the anonymous heckler from the café. It all confused her too much, and she bared paid attention as she sat down at her desk and began to shuffle through her papers.   
  
In Hermione's state, it took her a while to actually see what she was looking at. Sitting on her desk was a plain black folder, much like all the other folders they had in the department. As regulation stated, there was nothing on the outside to indicate what it contained. She had spent too much time in the Ministry to really be curious- it could have just as easily had a tax return inside as a top-secret mission.   
  
When she flipped up the front cover, her eyes met a photo that made her stare, and not at all because the face that met hers was undoubtedly attractive. "He seems to be showing up in the strangest places," she muttered to herself. She examined the rest of the folder's contents, but there was not much more than name and address. Nothing told her why this particular person had been brought to her attention.   
  
As much as it annoyed her, Harry always seemed to know these things. She was higher in rank, technically, but she had a feeling he knew everything that ever went on in the Department of Defense. With this in mind, she strode purposefully the approximate five feet from her desk to Harry's.   
  
"What is this?" she asked, sticking the folder in front of him. He took it out of her hands, opened it, closed it, set it on his desk, pushed his chair out, and exhaled roughly. He did not answer immediately. "Harry? What?"   
  
"Hermione, I don't know what you expect me to say. I though you would know."   
  
"Know what? Is Draco Malfoy suspected as a Death Eater? Because he's not, you know. He told me. He was helping me, he wouldn't have if he-"   
  
"Hermione, please. I know he's not a Death Eater. So do most of our coworkers." Harry's green eyes pierced into her. He looked confused.   
  
"What, then? What was that folder doing on my desk? Do you know who put it there?"   
  
"Well, yes, I do."   
  
Hermione regarded him for a minute, and he did not need to say that he had done it. "Why? What do you mean for me to do with it? It had only his address and a few other facts in it. Nothing I can really use, unless you wanted me to go to his house."   
  
"I wouldn't say *I* wanted you to go to his house," Harry murmured.   
  
Hermione's suspicions of the past few weeks boiled to the surface, erupting in a quiet anger. "What do you know that I don't?" she demanded coldly.   
  
Harry stood, "Hermione, before I tell you this- okay." He had seen her look, and it meant no nonsense, just tell me. She had spent what amounted to an entire week practicing that one. "Malfoy isn't a Death Eater. He's an Unspeakable."   
  
Hermione's breath caught in her throat, and her eyes went wide. "What?" she whispered.   
  
"He has been pretty much since we started working here."   
  
"You've known this the whole time, and you didn't tell me?"   
  
"Well, not the whole time, just-"   
  
"But you didn't tell me, Harry! This is Draco 'look-at-me-I'm-so-evil' Malfoy. He's not actually like that anymore, but you know what I mean. This is an important thing, and you hid it from me all this time! How is that right?"   
  
Harry shrugged helplessly. "I thought you knew, Hermione."   
  
"How would I know? What other way would I find out?"   
  
Harry looked over her shoulder at something, and what he seemed about to say remained unsaid. She whirled to see who he had looked at, but no one was there. She turned back to her friend. She was not exactly inclined to think of him that way at the moment, however, and she set her face angrily. "Does Ron know?" she asked, quiet enough that no one else would hear them.   
  
Harry looked as though he thought she would bite his head off. He nodded slowly, and continued to stare at her, as though she had been acting strange. This only increased her ire. She had every right to be angry with him.   
  
"I see," she whisperingly spat. She turned on her heel.   
  
"Hermione-" Harry caught at her arm, and she spun quickly again.   
  
"Oh, that's right. I forgot something." Harry stepped back, his eyes wondering if she would hit him. She reached past him for the folder, then stormed from his cubicle-office and out of the Ministry.   
  
Once she was outside, she opened the folder again. There was only one way she was going to get the answers she sought.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"You were right," Harry said, shocked. "She doesn't remember any of it."   
  
"I told you," Draco replied lazily, leaning on the wall. "You'd think that considering how close we were, she would have some recollection of it."  
  
Harry shot him a look. "Don't even. I really don't want to hear about it."   
  
"You're probably right. I don't know if your mind can handle it." Another look was shot from Harry. Draco might not be the same person he was back at Hogwarts, but he was still annoying as hell. "Anyway, like I said, when I ran into her two weeks ago, she acted like she hadn't seen me for years. And she didn't recognize my voice."   
  
Harry would have asked why that meant anything, but decided that it was another of those things he did not want to know. "What do you think happened? Do you think it's a Memory Charm?"   
  
Draco shook his head. "I think it's something not nearly as magical, and infinitely more complicated."   
  
"What are you saying?"   
  
"What I am saying, Harry, is that I think she's repressing all memories of me after Hogwarts. I think that it is completely psychological."   
  
"What? How- and why- would she do that?"   
  
"Don't ask me. I just know that it's possible. And after what happened-" Draco broke off suddenly, as though he had not meant to say so much.   
  
"What did happen, Draco? You never told us what went on, why you two grew apart." At the look in the other man's eyes, Harry shut himself up. The whole not wanting to know thing wouldn't work if he kept asking questions. "Nevermind. But I do have one question you can answer. How can she get her memories back?"   
  
"I think that if I tell her what happened- if she experiences some of those same things again, she'll remember. And if she doesn't… well, now she knows more than she did."   
  
"And that will really work?"   
  
"Maybe. It might make her head explode, what do I know? Kidding, Potter. I don't want Hermione's head to explode any more than you do. Less, in fact. I don't have much experience with non-magical memory loss, you know." He twirled his wand between his fingers, as Harry had noticed he did when he was nervous. He showed most of his emotions through his hands- his face always remained blank.   
  
"When she left, she was really angry, you know. She accused me of hiding things from her, and she took your folder and stormed out. What she wasn't saying was that she wants to know. I think she might try to find you, and ask you."   
  
"Well, that makes my job easier, doesn't it? I'll just go home and wait for her."   
  
"Yeah." Harry paused. "Good luck, Malfoy."   
  
Draco glanced up. "Thanks." He took out the small silver button that Harry knew to be a Portkey to his flat, and was gone a moment later.   
  
Harry exchanged glances with Ron. "I hope he knows what he's doing," Ron grumbled. "I don't trust him with Hermione."   
  
"But you trust her, right?" Harry asked. "Right, Ron?"   
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Pushing all doubts, and even most of her thoughts, aside, Hermione knocked on the door to Draco Malfoy's flat. He opened it with his shirt open, and apparently oblivious to this. Her inhale was sharp as she noted his state of undress. He glanced down fleetingly, then began to do up the buttons as he invited her in.   
  
"Granger," he greeted her. "What a pleasant surprise. Come in, please. Don't just stand out there."   
  
She stepped in, unable to resist glancing about at the tasteful décor. She supposed it was a rich-wizard-family thing, to know how to decorate well. This thought, along with all the others, she pushed to the back of her mind. She had to remember the reason why she came, and concentrate on it. If anything distracted her, she was afraid she would not actually ask the right questions.   
  
When she turned, his shirt was closed, and his front was decently not distracting. *Distracting? What is wrong with me?* She cleared her throat, and began. "Hello, Draco. You don't mind if I call you Draco?"   
  
"Feel free. So, to what do I owe this honor?" He sat in a black leather armchair, and indicated an identical one across a polished coffee table for her. She sat slowly, smoothing her dark green skirt under her.   
  
"I've heard some things about you, Draco. I've been thinking about you since we met in that shop- oh god, did I just say that?" She ran her fingers through her hair, an annoying anxious trademark of hers. "Ahem. What I mean to say is, I know that you're an Unspeakable- which is surprising in itself. And Harry and Ron have known for a while. The thing is, I didn't know, but Harry was acting like I should. And that made me wonder. And then a lot of *other* things made me wonder and- I just want to know what's going on."   
  
"So is there any particular question you would like me to answer?" Draco asked, leaning forward.   
  
Hermione regarded him with exasperation. "Draco, I want you to answer all of them."   
  
"Well, let me think of where to start." He closed his eyes for a moment. They snapped open shortly, and he looked directly at her. The heat of his gaze made her uncomfortable, but she sat deliberately still. "Hermione, I am an Unspeakable, which you know. What you don't know is my specialty. I'm not technically allowed to tell you this, but you want the whole story. What I do as an Unspeakable is secret body guarding. And for the past two years, my assignment was you."   
  
"So when I asked you if you were following me, you lied." She felt her expression grow hard. She was becoming very resentful of people keeping things from her.   
  
"No, I didn't. I said that I was following you, and I wasn't. That night, I was not following you. I was searching for something in that shop, and I saw you outside, and the Death Eaters. I did what I had to. You don't seem to believe me; well, you can take it as truth or not. It's your choice."   
  
"That's not important right now. Continue, please."   
  
"Patient today, aren't we? My job of guarding you is how we reunited. That's the best word I can come up with, so just live with it. It happened this way. You were hit with a Stunning Spell while trying to calm a riot-"   
  
"Yes, I remember that. I woke up in my bed, and Harry was there, taking care of me-"   
  
"No he wasn't." Draco shook his head.   
  
"What? Of course he was. I would remember that."   
  
"And I'm telling you, that's not what happened. Just let me finish." He held up a hand to stay her comments. "I picked you up then, and I brought you to your flat, but there just happened to be a few Death Eaters lurking about there. We never found out what they intended. They must have abandoned that plan after… but that's not important. So, lacking any other real choices, I took you back here, and put you in my bed. Then, when you woke up, I had to explain everything to you. You already knew then that I was an Unspeakable, and I just filled in the rest. A little like I'm doing now, actually. So, before I knew it, Potter and Weasley knew as well, and they were seeking me out to confront me about not taking you to one of their places instead of mine. Being- well, them, they didn't realize that this was the safest place for you."   
  
"Wait. Why didn't you just revive me?"   
  
"It's a matter of rest. I happened to know that you had been awake for forty-seven hours straight beforehand, and I thought you could you the sleep."   
  
"That should have been my choice." She crossed her arms.   
  
"And you were in the perfect position to make it, being unconscious and all. Look, I know I'm not going to win here, so just drop it."   
  
Hermione scowled. "All right. So what happened after you 'rescued' me?"   
  
"It's amazing how your tone makes it sound like I was abducting you."   
  
She sighed. "I'm sorry. Well, not completely, but enough."   
  
Draco raised an eyebrow silently before carrying on the story. "Well, we started seeing each other. Romantically."   
  
"Romantically?" Her mind had gone numb.  
  
"Yes, that is what I said. Your parrot imitation is dead on."   
  
"No, that never happened. I would never do something like that. And I would *remember* it, wouldn't I?"   
  
"Apparently not. And whether or not you would *ever* do something like that, you did. It's just something you're going to have to get over."   
  
"As you have, I notice. Draco, what are you playing at?"   
  
"Playing at?" He was incredulous. "You think I'm making this up? As Weasley, ask Harry, they both knew about it."   
  
"Well, why didn't they ever mention it?!"   
  
"Because, they would never talk about it unless you brought it up. They have issues when it comes to discussing me in relation to your love life."   
  
"This is ridiculous." She stood. Her head was spinning, and she had to work to keep upright. "I never had a love life with you."   
  
"Yes, you did."   
  
"Fine!" She put a hand to her temple. "Fine. Say I did. Why don't I remember it?"   
  
"Something happened- there was a reason why we broke up. You're repressing, and you've created memories in place of what really happened to fill in the holes."   
  
"Oh, you're such an expert on me, aren't you?" She was taunting him, and she regretted it, but she could not stop herself. She looked up, and he was standing as well, a few feet away.   
  
"I know more than you do about it. But you won't understand unless I tell you what happened."   
  
"Well, tell me then." She sat heavily.   
  
Draco knelt in front of her. "We were together for five months, and then it happened. News of us started to get out, and most of wizard Britain knew. Understand, as the son of a Death Eater, I'm a major target. As one of their most competent enemies, you are also a major target."   
  
"I know this," she said angrily. Her head was in her hands. She was listening carefully to Draco, but she would not look at him. "Get to the part where I'm repressing."   
  
"I requested a switch in your bodyguard. You came and yelled at me about it, and I acted as though it was because I didn't want to be around you. You were extremely angry, and your breathing was affected. You fainted. I sent you to your own bed. When you woke up, I guess you didn't remember anything about us."   
  
"Why?"   
  
"Why what?"   
  
"Why did you switch?"   
  
"Oh, that. Well, I didn't really. They told me I was the only one who knew how to protect you adequately, and you were too important for that kind of risk. So I'm still your bodyguard. But if you're asking why I wanted to, it's because it's harder to protect you when I'm so distracted by you. If that makes sense."   
  
"Not really," Hermione answered. She was smiling for some reason. She forced herself to adopt a more serious countenance, and she asked a more important question. "But the part about us being together at all is still bugging me. Why would I do anything with you of that sort? What could you possibly have done to make me- want that?"   
  
Draco took a deep breath. "I can't tell you. We'll just do the same thing over again. It won't be good. There'll be a repeated cycle of you forgetting about us, and me reminding you, and us for a few months, then you'll forget again…"   
  
"Draco, tell me. If you want me to buy this, then you have to tell me. I just don't see myself seeing you that way. Unless you…" she trailed off as realization dropped on the top of her head.   
  
"I already did it once, Hermione," he said quietly. "It's just- unspeakable."   
  
"Say it again," she whispered, leaning forward.   
  
Their faces were very close. She rested her forehead on his. His eyes were so large, she thought she would fall into them. His lips parted slowly. "I love you, Hermione."   
  
Hearing the words she had expected, she closed the miniscule distance between their lips. His mouth was soft, yielding, and commanding all at once, demanding that she accept his love, and drawing on all her feelings.   
  
At once, a wave of colors, resolving themselves into millions of pictures, rolled across her mind. With a gasp, she pulled away. She felt her muscles twitching as she experienced the memories of those five months in the flash of a second. One of them stood out in the fore of all the rest.   
  
*** "So," she said, giggling slightly, "What did you want to talk to me about?"   
  
"Well, I don't think it's a good idea for me to be your bodyguard anymore," Draco began.   
  
Hermione sat stock still. "Why not?"   
  
"I don't want to see you anymore, Granger. It was fun, I'll admit, but there's just too much about you that I don't like. You're annoying, bossy, a know-it-all, and- well, let's just say there are too many to name."   
  
"Oh, so now it's Granger? Not Hermione?" she said, her voice raised above a normal level.   
  
"There's no need to make a scene, here."   
  
"There is EVERY reason to make a scene!"   
  
"I mean, did you really think I actually cared about you? You're either denser than you seem, or extremely gullible. Or possibly, a wishful thinker on a level by yourself."   
  
Shaking, Hermione stood, her fists clenched and jaw set. "You know what? I was stupid to think we actually had something."   
  
Draco just stood there, looking at her impassively.   
  
"No, I take that back. What you are saying, *Malfoy*, does not make any sense. No one could say and do those things, and not mean them. No one."   
  
"I'm a good actor," he told her.   
  
"Not *that* good. And if you didn't mean it, then why did you even bother?" Her anger was making her dizzy, and she locked her knees to keep her legs from wobbling.   
  
"It was the thought of the unattainable. I attained it, and now I don't want it anymore. It's a guy thing, and you wouldn't understand."   
  
"You haven't attained anything!" she screamed at him. "You think you know everything about everything, Draco, but really-!" ***  
  
With effort, Hermione pulled herself out of the torturous memory. She looked sadly at Draco. "But you didn't really mean any of that, did you?"   
  
"Only the part about being a good actor." Hermione leaned back, closing her eyes. "I do love you, Hermione. You were right. It's much easier to pretend indifference than utter love and devotion."   
  
Her eyes snapped open. "I love you too."   
  
His hands came to rest behind her head, fingers tangling in her hair. "I know. So, you think you want to try it again?"   
  
"Only if you promise not to lie to me. Because if you tell me later on that you never cared about me, I swear I'll kill you. I'll hide your body and erase all the evidence. And I do mean all. No one will ever know what happened. I would not think twice."   
  
Draco was grinning, to her surprise. "I promise. Cross my heart and hope to be tortured for a thousand consecutive years." He leaned toward her, one knee on the chair holding him up.   
  
"Oh, and Draco? One more thing."   
  
"Yeah?"   
  
"If we're going to do this, we're going to do it right. Take me to the bedroom." He laughed then pulled her up out of the leather armchair. His smiling lips descended on hers, and her nerves were swept up in a sublime fire.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~   
  
A/N: So I figured I should post the next part here. I personally like this part a lot, I don't know about the rest of you. That's why you have to REVIEW and tell me. Mwah-ha-ha…Or not. so yeah, big appreciation for the reviewers of this *oneshot*. Note, this is a *oneshot* so do not ask me to update. The third part, Hopelessly Flawed, coming soon. Bye! 


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